


Absolution

by emeraldsage85



Series: Absolution Universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsage85/pseuds/emeraldsage85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to After All. Ron leaves with Harry but after months of self-imposed exile he becomes extremely worried about his boyfriend's mental state.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s Christmas Eve when Ron and Harry take down the tent. After stowing it in Harry’s rucksack they join hands and Ron apparates them to the middle of Diagon Alley, in front of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes.

 

“Why are we here, Ron?” Harry asks, seeming somewhat confused.

 

“I told you, I’ve been living here. I just need to collect some of my things,” Ron replies.

 

The two of them let themselves into the flat above the shop to find it dark, empty, and cold. Ron knows that George will already be at the Burrow for Christmas Eve dinner and he feels a twinge of guilt at leaving his brother in the lurch over the Christmas rush at the shop. Still, George always knew that Ron would leave the moment he got word from Harry. Ron grabs his rucksack and performs the always handy undetectable extension charm that Hermione once taught him. Into it he stuffs all of his clothes, some extra winter gear, his Chudley Cannons quilt, and a few Quidditch magazines. He also sneaks in Harry’s Christmas present when he’s certain that Harry isn’t looking. Then he raids the cupboards, grabbing anything that doesn’t need to be cooked while Harry watches him with mild interest.

 

“Isn’t George going to be angry with you?” Harry asks.

  
“He’ll get over it,” is all Ron says.

 

He locks up the flat behind them as they step into the bitterly cold, windy night. Once again, Harry takes Ron’s hand in his and they apparate again, this time to the edge of the Burrow near the lake. For a moment Harry hesitates, shifting his own rucksack nervously on his shoulder and he looks at Ron with trepidation.

 

“Come on then,” Ron says, holding out a hand to him.

 

Harry doesn’t voice his fears but Ron can see them in his eyes all the same. After some reluctance he takes his boyfriend’s hand and allows himself to be pulled through the snow drifts towards the Burrow. Ron opens the back door and the two of them find themselves bathed in bright light and warmth, having clearly interrupted a party that was in full swing. For a moment the two of them crowd the entrance together, unsure of how to proceed as everyone in the house turns to stare at them. His mother is the first to react.

 

“Ronald Weasley! Where in Merlin’s name have you been? Everyone’s been worried sick about you, especially your brother! What were you thinking, just disappearing like that at Christmas?” she shrieks, all the while crushing him in to her in a vice-like grip.

 

“I went to get Harry,” Ron says in a muffled voice from his position against her shoulder.

 

Molly quickly releases him and whips around to set eyes on Harry.

 

“And you! It’s been months since anyone has heard from you! We didn’t know if you were alive or dead! Couldn’t you have sent an owl?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Harry breathes and Ron notices that he can’t quite meet her gaze.

 

Molly hugs him much more gently than she does Ron and says softly, “Please don’t do that again. Next time you write to us, okay?”

 

Harry nods and she releases him, seemingly satisfied.

 

“Well we’re about to have dinner so you’ve arrived just in time. Everyone budge over,” Molly says cheerfully.

 

The rest of the Weasleys do far from moving their places. Instead it’s a flurry of activity as they abandon their seats to greet Ron and gush over Harry. The only person who doesn’t seem too excited about their return is George, who tells Ron he’ll speak to him later in private in a somewhat frosty tone. Ron feels the prickle of guilt inside of him once more but decides not to dwell on it at the moment.

 

When the fervour finally dies down and everyone is back in their respective spots, Molly begins levitating in tray after tray of glorious food: turkey with stuffing, roast potatoes and gravy, mixed vegetables, cranberries, homemade bread, puddings, and a mountain of sweets. Ron piles his plate high with as much food as he can get his hands on. He’s glad to see Harry doing the same; it’s clear that his friend hasn’t been eating properly in the time he’s been away. Harry doesn’t say much, even when the Weasleys question him about where he’s been.

 

He merely shrugs and says, “I’ve been travelling.”

 

Ron finds himself feeling guilt-ridden yet again because if he hadn’t pushed, Harry wouldn’t be here. He knows that Harry misses the solitude of the tent, misses being alone where prying eyes and invasive questions can’t reach him. He’s only here because Ron asked for one last visit with his family and Harry is simply obliging to make him happy.

 

Harry is quiet all through dinner but if any of the Weasleys notice they don’t press the issue. Afterwards Molly recruits Ginny, Bill, and Percy to help with the dishes while the rest of the family are banished to the living room to listen to the wireless. Ron’s about to flop down on the living room’s worn-out sofa when George grabs him by the elbow and drags him into the main floor loo.

 

“This is about me leaving without telling you, isn’t it?” Ron questions.

 

“Yeah,” George says but for a moment he looks as if he doesn’t know what to say.

 

“You knew,” Ron says quietly, “You knew I was waiting for him. You knew I was going to leave as soon as he asked me to.”

 

“Yeah, I did. But I don’t why you couldn’t have bloody well said something! You left me alone to run the shop at Christmas!” George snaps.

 

“You aren’t alone. You hired five people to help you and if that’s not enough, hire some more!” Ron says.

 

“We were partners; you promised,” George complains.

 

“I was temporary help. Stop trying to make me into Fred and let me get on with my own life!” Ron says angrily.

 

“Following Harry isn’t a life, Ron,” George snaps.

 

“Neither was working for you,” Ron shoots back.

 

He lets himself out of the loo and storms up the stairs to his old bedroom. Harry is up there already, lying on the bed with his rucksack is on the floor nearby. Everything is still the way Ron left it; from the orange walls to the Chudley Cannons posters and bits of old junk lying around it almost looks like he still lives here.

 

“Is everything all right?” Harry asks as he takes in the irritated expression on Ron’s face.

 

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “Just the usual family fun.”

 

Harry doesn’t ask any questions and for that Ron is grateful. He lies down next to Harry and presses a kiss to his forehead.

 

“We don’t have to stay, you know. We can leave any time you want,” he says.

 

“The day after Christmas,” Harry blurts out, “We can stay until then.”

 

“Okay,” Ron murmurs.

 

He stifles a yawn and suddenly realizes that he’s exhausted after apparating such a long distance. Maybe a few moments of shut eye before going downstairs again would be a good idea. He closes his eyes and wraps an arm around Harry.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Christmas morning dawns too bright and too early for Ron’s liking. Winter sunlight streams through the window to rouse him and he curses himself for leaving the shade open the night before. He stretches and sits up, wincing a bit at the crick in his neck from sleeping without a pillow. Only when he’s fully awake does Ron realize that last night’s “nap” must have put him out for the entire evening.

 

“You fell asleep last night and I knew you needed it so I just left you there. I hope you don’t mind,” says Harry from the other side of the room where he’s getting dressed.

 

“Hmmph,” is all Ron can muster this early.

 

“Here,” Harry says as he presses a warm mug of coffee into his boyfriend’s hands.

 

Still feeling incapable of coherent speech, Ron perches on the edge of the bed and watches as Harry pulls on a sweater.

 

“Have a shower and get dressed. Your mother says breakfast is ready,” he says.

 

Ron nods his comprehension and receives a quick kiss in return.

 

“Go before Ginny steals the loo. You know how long she takes to get ready,” Harry urges.

 

Then he’s out the door and down the stairs, leaving Ron to stare sleepily after him. Ron gulps down the rest of his coffee, gathers his toiletries, and makes his way to the bathroom. It’s been days since he’s had a warm shower and it feels heavenly. The rickety tent they’ve been staying in has very little to offer in the way of self-cleansing facilities. Mostly they’ve been using cleansing charms in order to get clean while keeping out the bitter cold.

 

While he washes his hair, Ron wonders where they’ll end up next. It both excites and terrifies him that he’s soon going to have no fixed address. Harry will no doubt be in charge of where they set up camp and he wonders if this is going to be in any way the same as the hunt for the horcruxes. _At least this time there won’t be a threat of danger_ he thinks. Ron turns off the taps and then makes his way back to his room to get dressed. As he dries off with a familiar old towel he marvels that this may be the last time he’ll see this room as his. No doubt his mother will turn it into a guest room once she realizes that he’s gone for good.

 

Ron pulls on some jeans and a sweater before heading a down for breakfast. Most of the family is already there, tucking into scrambled eggs and toast while chattering animatedly to each other. Everyone seems extra cheerful this morning, even George, who is prattling on happily about a new invention for his shop. Harry is down at the opposite end of the table, eating his toast and putting on a good show of listening to Arthur enthuse about Muggle electronics. Ron frowns as he watches Harry plaster on a fake smile at something his father has said.

 

“Listen up! When everyone’s finished we’ll open presents!” Molly shouts over the din of the kitchen.

 

There’s suddenly a mad scramble as everyone hurries to finish eating and deposit their dishes into the sink. In spite of his earlier worries, Ron can’t help but smile. Some traditions never get old. They gather in the living room around the Christmas tree and Molly begins doling out the gifts for the respective family members. Ron receives his usual maroon sweater, some boxes of his favourite sweets, a book about the Chudley Cannons, and a pair of thick woolen socks. He’s glad to see that his mother thought enough to make a sweater for Harry as well, though his is emerald green with a snitch decorating the front.

 

Harry slides over to Ron and says, “I’m sorry I didn’t get anyone anything. I mean I should have…I just…”  


“It’s okay. They understand,” Ron reassures him.

 

Harry looks more than a little embarrassed but, as usual, doesn’t voice his feelings any further.

 

“I, um, hope you don’t mind but I got you something,” Ron says, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.

 

He passes over a small wrapped box to Harry, who opens it nervously. Inside is a practice snitch signed by the Argentinian Seeker Patrick Golapott, a favourite player of Harry’s. He turns it over in his hand and the tiny snitch spreads its wings to hover for a moment in the air.

 

“Ron, how did you-?”

 

“Business was good at the shop so I bought you something nice. Do you like it?” Ron asks.

 

For a moment Harry looks like he’s been hit with a silencing jinx. His mouth opens and closes but no sound comes out. His eyes crinkle and his breathing becomes ragged.

 

“It’s-it’s…Thanks Ron. I love it,” he says softly, “Would you excuse me for a moment?”

 

He gets up and disappears into the main floor loo, leaving Ron sitting there dumbfounded. He wonders if he should go after Harry. Has he done something wrong? For a second he sits there feeling completely unsure of what to do until his mother pats him on the shoulder gently.

 

“I think he was very touched by your gift,” she says with a knowing smile, “Go talk to him.”

 

Ron knocks on the door of the loo. When Harry doesn’t answer he opens it and finds him leaning against the sink, crying.  He shuts the door and wraps an arm around Harry’s waist, drawing the two of them as close as they can physically get.

 

“Are you all right?” Ron asks softly.

 

“I’m sorry Ron,” Harry mumbles against his shoulder.

 

“It’s okay,” Ron says as he runs a hand through his boyfriend’s normally untidy hair.

 

“It’s not okay. How can you care? How can you want to be with me? How can you stay with me knowing that we’re leaving this all behind tomorrow? Your family is wonderful and I should want to be here but I just don’t and I’m going to take you away from them if you keep following me. Just stay here Ron. Stay here and be loved,” Harry says in a hoarse whisper.

 

Ron only hugs him tighter and says, “I didn’t know where you were for nearly a year. But I couldn’t live without you so I waited for you. If you think for one moment I’m letting you out of my sight again then you’re mad.”

 

Harry lets out a humourless bark of a laugh against Ron’s shoulder.

 

“We can be mad together,” he says.

 

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes and Ron wonders when he last smiled for real. He releases his hold on Harry and turns toward the door.

 

“Are you okay with going back out there? You could go upstairs to my room if you want. I’ll tell everyone that you’re ill so you won’t have to see them for a while,” he says.

 

“No. Just give me a moment to clean myself up and then I’ll join the party again,” Harry sniffs.

 

Ron leaves Harry alone in the loo and wanders back to the festivities in the living room where his father has tuned the wireless to Celestina Warbeck’s annual Christmas concert. It’s another family tradition Ron enjoys, even if he won’t admit to it, but this time he can’t help but feel an aching sadness in his chest. It’s impossible to be happy when Harry’s so miserable.  He plops himself down onto the nearest sofa and begins opening one of his packs of sweets.

 

“Ron, is everything all right? Harry seems a bit out of sorts today,” Ginny asks.

 

Ron plasters on a fake smile and says, “He’s fine. It’s just a little overwhelming for him today.”

 

Ginny nods in understanding and Ron hopes that his half-truth is enough to keep anyone in earshot from asking questions. _Things will be better tomorrow_ he thinks, although he can’t quite bring himself to believe that.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s the day after Christmas and Ron wakes to the early morning sunlight again. Harry is curled up beside him, barely awake himself. He leans over and presses and a kiss to the scar on his boyfriend’s forehead.

 

“Morning,” he whispers.

 

Harry lets out a noise of contentment and shifts himself closer to Ron.

 

“Hey. Have you told them you’re leaving?” he mutters against Ron’s shoulder.

 

“Not yet. We should get up and have breakfast downstairs. Then I’ll tell mum and dad we’re not staying and we’ll go,” Ron says.

 

“Yeah, okay. In a minute,” Harry sighs.

 

When he makes no move to get up, Ron pushes him away firmly.

 

“Come on. You want to get an early start, right?”

 

“Hmmm…” is all Harry says in response.

 

Ron pushes him again and this time he ends up precariously close to the edge of the bed.

 

“All right, all right, I’m getting up,” Harry groans as he swings his feet over the side of the bed.

 

The two of them take turns using the upstairs loo to shower and, after getting dressed, venture down to the kitchen. Most of the family is already awake and gorging themselves on the food Molly has made.

 

“Morning boys,” his father says without looking up from the Daily Prophet.

 

“Good morning dad. Still reading that junk?” Ron says good-naturedly.

 

“It’s entertainment. They think Harry’s been sighted in Romania somewhere. He supposedly lives in a commune and has three wives,” Arthur chuckles.

 

Ron’s about to say something silly in return when he notices the angry look on Harry’s face.

 

“They’ve been trying to track me? They have no right to know where I am!” Harry snaps.

 

For a moment Arthur looks taken aback at the vehemence of Harry’s outburst but he attempts to reassure him by saying, “Everyone knows it’s not true. At this point they’re only printing the little bit of hearsay they can find and making up the rest.”

 

Thankfully Harry lets the subject drop as he sits down to eat but he still looks angry.

 

“So,” Molly cuts in, “What does everyone have planned for today? Lots of good food and relaxing, I hope.”

 

“And probably chess or exploding snap,” Charlie adds.

 

Ron decides not to let the opportunity pass him by, even if it will cause chaos at the breakfast table.

 

“Harry and I are leaving after breakfast,” he says with forced casualness.

 

“What? Leaving to go where? You only just got here!” his mother demands.

 

“We’re going travelling,” Harry says quietly.

 

“What sort of travelling? It’s the dead of winter; you’ll catch your deaths out there wandering around in the cold! And what about your job, Ron? You’ve already left your brother without help over the Christmas season. It would be unfair to just walk away while he needs you to help with the shop! And you, Harry! You’ve only just come back! Don’t think I’m going to stand for not knowing where you are for months again!” Molly bellows.

 

“We’re going camping and I don’t know where. I promise we’ll write so you’ll know where we are. George will manage without me,” Ron says exasperatedly.

 

He notices that everyone else at the table is looking at him with either intrigue or pity. Having all been on the receiving end of one of Molly’s lectures at some point or other, he knows that none of his siblings envy him. Molly casts a glance at George, silently imploring him to help her. Ron gets the feeling that they must have discussed this beforehand but he can see that his brother isn’t buckling under the pressure.

 

“I’m fine on my own,” George mumbles.

 

“See?” Ron says, “He doesn’t need me. In fact, he all but fired me two days ago!”

 

“Is that true?” Molly snaps at her son.

 

“I may have gotten a little upset about it. But if Ron doesn’t want to be there that’s fine. I got an owl from Lee this morning and he says he wants in on a business partnership so I’m all set,” George says carefully as he swirls his oatmeal with a spoon and avoids her eyes.

 

Seeing that she’ll get no help there, Molly turns to Arthur. Ron knows that after so many years of marriage his father will want to head her off at the pass and try to keep the peace.

 

“It’s fine Molly. They’re adults; I’m sure they can decide where they’re going and what they’re doing without us interfering,” he says evenly.

 

“Well don’t expect your father and I to pay for this little adventure,” Molly barks.

 

“I don’t need you to. I hardly spent any money while I was working for George so I’ll be fine. Come on Harry, let’s go pack our things,” Ron says.

 

The two of them go upstairs to Ron’s bedroom, where he angrily begins stuffing things into his rucksack. Harry plops down on the bed and pulls a pillow into his lap.

 

“I’m sorry Ron,” he says softly, “Maybe you should stay.”

 

“I’m not staying and you know it. I’m going…well, wherever it is we’re going and that’s final!” Ron says irritably.

 

For a moment Harry looks like he’s about to say something but then thinks better of it. He falls silent and doesn’t say a word as they finish packing. In a few moments the two of them descend the stairs to say goodbye to the Weasleys. Most of Ron’s siblings take their departure in stride, simply hugging them and telling them they’ll write. Arthur tells Ron to be careful before giving him a brief hug and then does the same to Harry. Molly is terribly upset; she begs them both to reconsider and asks why they can’t stay one or two more days to finish out the Christmas holidays before Ginny returns to school.

 

“Sorry mum but we’ve got to get going,” Ron says firmly.

 

Seeing that none of her tactics have worked, Molly insists on hugging Ron and Harry again while fawning over them with a tearful goodbye. Ron emerges from his hug looking somewhat red-faced and a bit angry but Harry barely reacts.

 

“Take care of each other,” Molly says as she wipes her eyes on the edge of her apron.

 

“I promise. See you mum,” Ron says.

 

“Goodbye everyone,” Harry adds quietly.

 

He takes Rons arm and they apparate away.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Harry apparates himself and Ron to the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

 

“Why have you brought us here? What if someone sees you?” Ron demands.

 

“I believe you requested a new tent. You said this one was too cold,” Harry reminds him.

 

He shrugs off his rucksack and digs out both the tent and his invisibility cloak. He shoves the tent into Ron’s hands and then swings the cloak around his body, hiding it from prying eyes.

 

“There’s a camping supply shop two streets over. Ask them if they’ll take this tent on trade and let you pay the difference. I’ll pay you back for my half when we get out of here,” Harry’s disembodied voice instructs.

 

It takes Ron longer than he hopes to find the shop, even with the occasional whispered directions from Harry but eventually he finds himself standing in front of Creswell’s Camping Supplies. It’s a tiny shop with peeling gold letters on the front and blue paint that’s clearly seen better days. The chime over the door jingles as they step inside and Ron is greeted by a short balding wizard.

 

“Good morning sir. Anything I can help you with?” he inquires.

 

Ron presents the old tent and explains that he’d like to trade it in while the shopkeeper examines it.

 

“The warming charms are nearly gone so they’ll need replacing. I’ll have to add new furniture as well so it won’t be worth much but I’d be willing to give you a deal,” he says.

 

“What sort of deal?” Ron asks shrewdly.

 

“You see, camping just isn’t that popular these days so I have some stock I need to get rid of. I’ll take this tent on trade and you can have thirty percent off the cost of another used tent. Just go straight back and to the left and have a look at what’s there. Let me know what you decide on,” the shopkeeper says.

 

Harry nudges Ron and whispers quietly that they should take the deal. He accepts and they trudge back to the tent section of the store. There are two rows of tents to be inspected but Ron quickly decides that the first row is much too expensive for what they need. Some of them have multiple tiers, complete with chandeliers, full fireplaces, and Jacuzzis. The second row is more practical and yields better results. The first two tents Ron looks at are in pretty much the same shabby condition as the one Harry had but third catches his eye.

 

It contains a sitting room with a thick fluffy rug, a tiny but useable kitchen, and a medium sized stove. Steps on the left hand side lead to two doors. Ron opens one of them to find the sleeping quarters: a cramped area containing a double bed and a small heater for warmth. When he opens the second door he gets visibly excited at the sight of an actual, proper loo.

 

“It’s got a shower and it’s affordable!” Ron whispers gleefully.

 

“I take it you want this one then?” Harry whispers back.

 

Ron practically stampedes to the front of the store in his enthusiasm to inquire about buying the tent. Within minutes he and Harry walk out the door with it folded securely into Ron’s bag. They return to the edge of Hogsmeade where Harry throws off the cloak gratefully and stows it in his rucksack.

 

“Where to?” Ron asks.

 

Harry takes his arm and they disapparate to end up in the middle of a forest full of snow-dusted trees waving their ghostly-looking limbs in the wind. Ron doesn’t see another soul for miles around and he knows that Harry chose this place specifically so they won’t run into anyone, magical or muggle. He thinks it’s beautiful in a haunting sort of way.

 

“Let’s set up,” Harry says, seemingly oblivious to the way Ron is gaping at their surroundings.

 

“Uh, Harry, where are we?” Ron ventures.

 

“We’re in Buglaria, somewhere in the Balkan forests,” is all Harry says before returning to unpacking the tent.

 

Figuring that’s as good as he’s going to get, Ron joins in on levitating the tent into place and applying the sticking charms to the pegs. Once it’s secure, Harry begins casting the same sort of protective enchantments they used back when they were hunting horcruxes.

 

“Do we really need those? It’s not like we’re in danger anymore,” Ron inquires.

 

“Yes, we need them,” Harry says irritably before resuming what he’s doing.

 

Ron decides not to push his luck so he heads into the tent and begins trying to light the stove. While this tent is significantly warmer than the previous one, it’s still chilly outside and he doesn’t fancy needing to wear his coat indoors. It takes him three tries but he manages to get a fire burning in the grate. Once things are nice and toasty, Ron begins unpacking the food from his rucksack. Between his former flat and the Burrow he’s managed to nick enough food to last them for about a month. He’s just storing things into various cupboards when he hears footsteps behind him and suddenly a pair of arms wrap around his waist.

 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Harry murmurs.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ron says as he tries to find a suitable place for the loaf of bread he stole from his mother’s pantry.

 

“It does matter. It always matters. I want you to stay but I can’t stop pushing you away and I don’t know why,” Harry says softly.

 

Ron turns around so they’re face-to-face now but Harry doesn’t let go of him.  He twines his arms around his boyfriend once more and looks up, green eyes anxiously searching Ron’s face.

 

“Harry you’ve been through a lot lately –“

 

“Dammit Ron! Stop being so understanding! Just get angry with me for being such an insufferable prat and making you leave your family on Christmas to live in a bloody tent in the middle of nowhere! You know I deserve it,” Harry hisses.

 

Ron bends down and kisses Harry’s forehead just over the scar.

 

“I’m not angry. Do you think I wanted to live and work at that shop forever?” Ron asks calmly.

 

“Why didn’t you go on then? You should have forgotten about me, done something good with your life!” Harry cries.

 

“Because I couldn’t do it without you,” Ron whispers as he leans his forehead against Harry’s.

 

He hears Harry make a strangled noise and then it’s a choking sob because Harry’s crying. He buries his face in Ron’s shoulder and weeps for what feels like forever but he can’t stop. He cries until finally he’s too exhausted to stand and Ron half-drags, half-carries him to the bed where he cries some more until he falls asleep. Ron covers him with a blanket and turns on the heater to keep him warm, then wanders out into the kitchen and stares blankly at all the things he still needs to put away. Finally he turns back, climbs into bed with Harry, and falls asleep from sheer exhaustion.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

After moving into the tent, days go by with nothing to do. Winter is settling in for a long stretch and soon they won’t be able to explore very far outside due to the intense cold and the large amount of snow they’ve been getting. Not that Ron would wander too far anyways; he doesn’t like to let Harry out of his sight for very long. A dose of cabin fever sets in and Ron doesn’t want to admit he’s bored so he tells himself that he’s here for Harry and nothing else matters.

 

Harry himself spends most of his time reading one of the many books he’s brought or just sitting in front of the fire watching the dancing flames. He occasionally accepts Ron’s affection but doesn’t usually initiate it himself. Ron spends many days wondering just how to break his boyfriend out of his emotional slump but comes up with nothing. Eventually he wonders if he should suggest moving again but decides against it because it will only result in more of the same. Finally, just when he thinks he’s about to go insane, salvation arrives in the form of a brown and white barn owl carrying a letter from Hermione.

 

_Where are you? The last time you sent me an owl was TWO MONTHS AGO! – Hermione_

Ron can’t help but chuckle at the outraged tone of her letter but he quickly feels remorseful when he realizes that he really has ignored her for that long. He scrabbles around desperately, pawing through every box and cupboard they’ve got, but there are no quills or ink to be found.

 

“Harry? Do you have any ink?”

 

Harry shakes his head.

 

“Son of a banshee,” Ron mutters as he continues to search.

 

“I do have a pencil though,” Harry offers.

 

“A what?”

 

“A pencil. Muggles use it to write with,” Harry explains.

 

He pulls a thin, bright yellow object out of his bag and hands it to Ron.

 

“I can really use this ‘pense-ill’ to answer Hermione?” Ron asks excitedly.

 

“Yes Ron,” Harry says with a slight air of exasperation.

 

Ron grins like a child who’s just received a magnificent birthday present.

 

“I’ll have to get one of these for dad. He’ll love it!” he says happily.

 

Harry just rolls his eyes and returns to the book he’s reading. Ron sits down at the table with the pense-ill poised over Hermione’s letter but he’s not sure what to write. How can he possibly explain in writing what’s transpired over the last two months? The last time he wrote her was in November when he was working at the shop. Finally he decides that just the facts will do and he jots down a short but informative letter at the end of the parchment.

 

_Dear Hermione,_

_Found Harry living in a tent in the woods. Went to the Burrow for Christmas and it wasn’t that great. Harry’s not himself. He seems sad and out of sorts and I don’t know what to do for him. Currently living in a tent in the woods with Harry in a forest in Bulgaria. If you have any advice (or just want to lecture me) I’m all ears._

_-Ron_

Ron ties the parchment to the leg of the brown and white barn owl and shoos it towards the door.

 

“Go to Hermione,” he says.

 

He opens the tent flap and a rush of cold air hits him. Then the owl takes flight and he’s thankful to shut out the draft once more.

 

“So,” says a voice from nearby, “What did you tell her?”

 

Ron turns around and nearly jumps out of his skin when he realizes that Harry has moved from his perch in front of the fire to stand right behind him.

 

“Just the basics,” Ron admits.

 

“I don’t want her to find us. It’s just us here and no one else,” Harry says with a firm edge to his voice.

 

“Don’t worry. She won’t,” Ron reassures him.

 

Harry has an odd glint in his eye and Ron finds himself feeling a little bit nervous all of a sudden.

 

“Everyone else gave up on me but you didn’t. I don’t want them here. They wouldn’t understand,” Harry says darkly.

 

“I’d never give up on you. Wherever you’re going I’m going too,” Ron declares.

 

Harry gives him a weak smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and comes close enough to touch. He stands on tiptoe and reaches up just enough to brush Ron’s ear with his lips.

 

“You know I love you, right?” he whispers.

 

“Yeah. I love you too,” Ron breathes and he means it even if their relationship is still very new.

 

After eight years of being friends, love isn’t such a stretch for him. Ron doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into but he has sneaking suspicion that it won’t be an easy road for either of them. Still, if he’s ever given an out there’s no way he’ll take it. Harry’s never abandoned him and he’s certainly not going to do it to Harry, not now when he needs someone to be there for him.

 

They retreat to their respective chairs by the fireplace and Harry opens his book again. Were they in a normal living room in a normal house they’d be the picture of an old married couple, Ron muses. Instead he gets a feeling that they both might just be mental.

 

It takes nearly a week for Hermione’s owl to return and when it does it comes bearing another short letter. Harry is sleeping so Ron takes the opportunity to open it.

 

_Dear Ron,_

_It’s good to hear from you. I can’t say that I’m surprised about your location. I always knew you’d end up finding Harry. Where exactly in Bulgaria are you staying? From what you’ve said it sounds like Harry is depressed. The last thing he needs right now is to be isolated from everyone. I’m concerned about you as well since I know you go stir-crazy when cooped up in one place for too long. If you can convince Harry, come home and get him to see a healer who specializes in mental health. Please keep me updated on what’s happening. I want to help._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

 

Ron frowns as he rolls ups the letter and stores it out of sight in his bag. He knows that Harry won’t want to return home. After Christmas at the Burrow, it seems highly unlikely that Ron will be able to convince him to so much as move the tent to a different location, let alone journey back to civilization.

 

Feeling completely unsure of what to do now, Ron decides to channel his mother and cook. He’s nowhere near as good as she is but he supposes that Harry will be happy to have some porridge when he wakes up.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Harry is sitting in front of the fire again with his nose buried in yet another book and it’s driving Ron mad. There’s nothing to do here and he feels like he’s about to drop dead of sheer boredom. The snow is so deep now that the only way out of the tent area is apparating, they’re still well stocked on supplies, and Ron has no idea where the nearest muggle village is. There certainly aren’t any wizarding villages nearby and he’s not about to stumble into muggle territory by himself since he’s totally clueless about most, if not all, things muggle. The villagers would probably think him a nutter. Ron paces back and forth, around the chairs near the fire, around the table, up to the bedroom, and back again.

 

“Ron, will you stop? You’re distracting me!” Harry finally snaps.

 

“Sorry,” Ron mutters.

 

He flops down into one of the chairs and attempts to relax. Unable to still himself completely, he kicks his leg aimlessly back and forth against the bottom rung. On the fourth kick he accidentally catches the strap on his rucksack and drags it forward. He curses quietly as he disentangles his foot and then tosses his bag onto the nearest chair.  Heaving a sigh of boredom, Ron gets up and retreats to the bed where he stretches out and stares at the ceiling.

 

His thoughts stray back to Hermione’s letter once again and he groans in frustration. How is he supposed to help Harry when Harry himself does nothing? Aside from crying the other day he’s shown little emotion and been extremely un-talkative, something that highly worries Ron. He wishes Hermione were here. His last letter hasn’t gotten a reply yet and he feels terribly lost without her highly logical and perceptive mind to point out the obvious he always seems to miss.

 

“Ron?” Harry calls.

 

Ron hears Harry’s footsteps across the floor and he turns in the direction of the sound.

 

“Yeah?” he calls.

 

Harry enters the bedroom and flops down on the bed beside Ron.

 

“You disappeared. What are you doing in here?”

 

“Nothing really,” Ron says.

 

“I’m sorry. I know you’re bored. It’s just that I can’t…” Harry trails off.

 

“Can’t what?” Ron asks.

 

“I can’t do what everyone wants me to do right now. How can they think I’m some sort of hero when all of those people are dead because of me? Kingsley said they were going to make a fucking statue of me! How about making something to honour all of those people who gave their lives so that we could defeat Voldemort? And why doesn’t anyone care? How can they all just carry on and act like everything’s going to be okay?” Harry rails suddenly.

 

“Harry-“

 

“I’m not their poster boy,” Harry seethes.

 

“You don’t have to be,” Ron says, “But you can’t shut yourself away in the middle of nowhere like this and never see anyone again.”

 

Harry blinks rapidly and Ron can see tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

 

“I never wanted any of this,” Harry moans.

 

“I know,” Ron murmurs.

 

He pulls Harry against his side and marvels at how they fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. Harry rests his head against Ron’s chest and breathes rapidly, trying desperately to hold back the sobs trying to escape.

 

“We can’t change the way things happened and we can’t bring back the dead.  Do you think I’d leave George on his own if that was possible? The only thing left to do is go on and try to keep living; that’s all any of us can do. Please, Harry, don’t keep hiding away like this. Why can’t we go home and try to put things back together?” Ron says.

 

“Not yet,” is Harry’s muffled reply.

 

“Harry-“

 

Harry’s head shoots up and he glares at Ron.

 

“If this is so horrible for you, just go home! I know you hate it here!” he snaps.

 

“I told you I’m not going anywhere,” Ron says stubbornly.

 

Harry doesn’t answer. He sits up and swings his feet over the side of the bed, determinedly not looking at his boyfriend.

 

“Harry, don’t take this the wrong way but I think you might be depressed,” Ron says.

 

“Why?” Harry asks wearily.

 

“You’re obviously not yourself, you’ve pushed everyone away, and all you do is sit in this bloody tent day after day!” Ron says.

 

“I haven’t pushed you away,” Harry points out.

 

“That’s because I’m not letting you! Look mate, I think you need to stop hiding and deal with it. Hermione said –“

 

Harry’s eyes narrow and Ron realizes that he’s said the wrong thing.

 

“I told you not to tell her anything! You promised you wouldn’t!” Harry snaps.

 

“I promised I wouldn’t tell her where we are and she doesn’t know! That’s all I agreed to!” Ron protests.

 

“Fine! Whatever! Tell Hermione whatever you like but just piss off and leave me alone!” Harry shouts.

 

He leaps off the bed and storms away to the outer area of the tent. Ron follows and finds him putting on his coat.

 

“Where are you going? You’ll catch your death out there,” Ron says.

 

Harry ignores him and concentrates on shoving his feet into his boots. He lets himself out of the tent with an icy blast of wind and stomps out into the snow.

 

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” Ron growls.

 

He grabs his own coat, hastily shoves his arms into the sleeves, and jams his dragon hide boots onto his feet.

 

“Harry, wait!” he calls as he hurries to catch up.

 

Harry grumbles back something that Ron doesn’t quite catch and continues on his way without a backward glance.

 

“Harry!”

 

Ron uses his wand to blast hot air in front of him, making the trek through the snow drifts easier while he races to catch up.

 

“Will you stop?” Harry shouts, “I said I wanted to be left alone!”

 

“What, out here? You’re going to freeze to death. You didn’t even take your mittens,” Ron admonishes.

 

“Oh go inside and write more letters to Hermione, why don’t you?” Harry growls.

 

“I asked her for help because I’m a total blithering idiot. I don’t want to see you waste your life in exile in that tent but I don’t know how to help you. I’m completely lost. Tell me what to do. Tell me what will make you want to go home again,” Ron pleads.

 

“I don’t have a home,” Harry says morosely.

 

“We’ll get one together. We’ll get a flat for the two of us and we can put all of our stuff there and maybe if we live there long enough it’ll be home,” Ron says quickly.

 

For a moment Harry just stands there and watches the snow swirling around the trees. Ron’s beginning to think he’s being ignored again when Harry says, “Not yet.” Ron sighs in frustration and grits his teeth.

 

“At least come inside. It’s bloody freezing out here, okay?” he says as he holds out a hand for Harry to take.

 

Harry allows himself to be led back into the tent and strips off his winter clothes, which he hangs on the pegs near the door. Together they head back to their bed where it’s still warm from the body heat they shared a moment ago. Harry fits himself against Ron’s side once more and lays his head just over his boyfriend’s heart.

 

“I’m sorry. I know I’m a disappointment,” he says softly.

 

“You’re not,” Ron reassures him.

 

“I’m just so tired of…everything.”

 

“I wish I could help,” Ron tells him.

 

Harry is silent for so long that Ron thinks he’s fallen asleep.

 

Then he murmurs, “Did you mean it? About us getting a flat together?”

 

“Yeah. When we leave here we’ll get one of those cramped little flats that two blokes get their first time away from home.  We can move all of our stuff in and fight mum about how to decorate it,” Ron chuckles at the thought.

 

“Hmm… I’d like that,” Harry says drowsily.

 

Not long after he falls asleep, leaving Ron wide awake and no closer to helping Harry than he originally was.


	7. Chapter 7

Several days after Ron’s fight with Harry, Hermione’s owl returns bearing yet another letter full of advice.

 

_Dear Ron,_

_I read your last letter and I’m convinced that Harry is depressed but he’s just trying to ignore it. He needs to see a psychiatric healer in order to work through those feelings so don’t feel bad if you aren’t having much luck. I contacted St. Mungo’s psychiatric ward and they told me they have several healers on staff who deal with high-profile patients. I didn’t mention Harry’s name, of course, but they assured me they’re discreet. You’ll need to convince Harry that he needs help and that he’ll have to return to civilization to get it. Don’t push so hard that he pulls away but don’t let him keep you in that tent forever either because it will drive you mad eventually. It won’t be easy but I know you can do it! Keep in touch and let me know how you are._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Ron rolls up the letter and stuffs it in his bag. How is he supposed to convince Harry that he needs to see a healer, especially after their confrontation yesterday? He sighs in frustration.

 

“We’re running low on instant porridge,” Harry moans from the kitchen.

 

“Guess we’ll have to do without,” Ron says dully.

 

“But it’s my favourite,” Harry grumbles.

 

“Then you’ll have to go to a muggle village and get some,” Ron says.

 

Any mention of leaving the tent usually makes Harry stop complaining about whatever they’re missing but today he holds firm.

 

“You could go,” he says while eyeing Ron carefully to gage his reaction.

 

“Harry, it’s a **muggle village**. I’d have no idea what I was doing,” Ron points out, “Besides I don’t have any muggle money.”

 

“I have a little. You can apparate to the edge of the village and then go to the nearest store. It’ll be easy,” Harry says.

 

 _Convince Harry that he needs help and that he’ll have to return to civilization…_ Ron thinks. He decides this is probably the best moment to start so he digs in his heels.

 

“I’m not going to a muggle village in the middle of bloody nowhere without someone who knows about muggle stuff! They’d think I was stupid or something and lock me up!” he protests.

 

“I don’t think they’d do that…” Harry says feebly.

 

“We can go together,” Ron offers.

 

For a moment Harry looks like he’s going to tell Ron to stuff it but then he says, “Okay.”

The two of them dress themselves in their winter coats and boots and step outside into the frigid winter air. Harry reaches out to grasp Ron’s hand and together they apparate to the edge of the nearest muggle village. Without the coverage of the forest it’s even colder there as icy wind whips fat snowflakes around them to stick to their clothing, hair, and eyelashes. They trudge one after the other into the center of the village to look for shops.

 

It’s a tiny place which might hold a few hundred people at best, Ron guesses, so there are very few shops to choose from and all of them are located in the center of the village. As he surveys the surrounding buildings he realizes that most everything has a shabby, well-worn appearance to it. The shop fronts look like they’ve seen better days with their peeling paint and weather-beaten signs while the few houses he can make out nearby have patched holes in their roofs and dilapidated fences surrounding weedy yards. At the end of the row of shops is a building Ron thinks is a school, only recognizable from a Bulgarian flag and several children’s drawings in the windows.

 

Harry tugs on Ron’s arm and says, “In here.”

 

They enter one of the shops in the middle of the row and begin perusing the goods within. Everything is labelled in Bulgarian so Ron has a hard time determining what some of the boxes contain, only relying on pictures to help.

 

“Where’s Krum when you need him?” he mutters.

 

“I think I found the porridge,” Harry announces as he holds up a box.

 

“Are you sure it’s porridge? What if it’s baby food?” Ron says.

 

“It’s got a picture of a grown man on the box. Therefore it can’t be baby food,” Harry says triumphantly.

 

After picking up a few other supplies they head to the shop’s front counter. A tiny, hunched old woman in a blue dress totters up the ancient cash register.

 

“Zdravejte. Kak si?” she says.

Harry goggles at her like she’s grown an extra head and manages to say, “Er, hi?”

 

“Govorite li balgarski?” the elderly woman tries again.

 

“Sorry, we don’t speak Bulgarian,” Ron says apologetically.

 

The woman smiles and motions for Harry to hand over his purchases and he reluctantly slides them across the counter.

 

“She’s not going to bite, you know,” Ron snickers.

 

Harry glares at him but he doesn’t notice. He’s too interested in the way the woman is using the muggle register to add up the cost; if his father was here now he’d be beside himself. Ron makes a mental note to write him and tell him all about the village later on.

 

“Che shte bude dvadeset dolara,” the elderly woman says as she holds out his hand.

 

Harry digs around in his rucksack and comes up a small leather pouch, which he opens and begins to rummage through. He fishes out a few bills and presses them into the woman’s waiting hands. For a moment she stares at him in confusion and then looks at the money in her palm as though it’s the most distasteful thing she’s ever seen.

 

“Maybe you didn’t give her enough,” Ron suggests.

 

“They probably don’t take pounds here. Oh, I’m so stupid. How could I think they’d accept British currency?” Harry groans.

 

“Well do you have anything else?” Ron asks.

 

“Just a few galleons, two sickles, and some knuts.”

 

“Crap. Well we’ll have to leave then,” Ron sighs.

 

Harry takes the money back from the woman with a shake of his head and stows it in his rucksack. Ron edges towards the door, eager to leave and not really paying attention to anything when he happens to see Harry’s wand drop from his sleeve into the palm of his hand.

 

“Harry, no!” Ron hisses but it’s too late.

 

Harry whispers, “Obliviate,” and the elderly woman’s face goes slack, her eyes taking on twin expressions of glassiness as she stares into the unknown.

 

Harry tucks the food into his rucksack before she can regain her mental faculties and joins Ron by the entrance. Furious at what has just transpired, Ron slams open the door and storms off, beginning the walk back to the edge of the village. He originally planned on hanging around for a bit to observe the muggles so he could write to his father about it but now he’s too angry to care.

 

“Ron, stop!” Harry calls.

 

Ron marches on as though he can’t hear and apparates at the first possible opportunity. He lets himself into the tent and is just pulling off his boots when he hears the telltale crack of Harry’s apparition outside. The tent flap opens and Harry enters with a face like a thundercloud.

 

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?” he says.

 

Ron stabs a finger at Harry angrily and bellows, “You used magic in front of a muggle! Do you want a one-way ticket to fucking Azkaban?”

 

“We don’t have any money and we’re a bit low on food. What was I supposed to do?” Harry snaps.

 

“You obliviated an old woman over a box of fucking porridge you idiot!” Ron roars.

 

“I just wanted to have porridge, just one simple little thing. Don’t you think I’ve earned it after all I’ve been through?” Harrys says irritably.

 

“Right, because you’re Harry fucking Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World; you should just be allowed to take whatever you want, right? Well I’ve got news for you. You’re no better than the rest of us! Hermione and I fought in that bloody war alongside you and you don’t see either of us randomly obliviating people to get what we want!” Ron rages.

 

Harry has the good grace to look cowed at this but he continues.

 

“This isn’t the Harry I know. The real Harry, my best friend, the person I fell in love with would never do something so… so stupid! I don’t know who you are anymore mate and I’m not going to stay in this bloody tent any longer for you. Owl me when you’ve got your shit together.

 

Ron grabs his rucksack and begins stuffing his belongings into it, resolutely ignoring Harry who’s frozen in a sort of statue-like silence near the door. Then he pushes past his friend and lets himself out into the frigid winter evening, where he apparates away.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Ron finds himself apparating to the first place that pops into his head and lands on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. It’s where Hermione is and she’ll know exactly what to do even if she’ll probably lecture him for months afterwards to the point of madness. Ron stumbles through the snow banks near the Forbidden Forest and begins the monumental task of making his way to the front door, all the while cursing whoever decided apparating within Hogwarts was not allowed.

 

When he arrives inside, his boots and the hems of jeans are soaked through and caked with snow. Ron stamps his feet a few times to rid himself of the excess and then takes out his wand to perform drying charms. The sight of the castle is a very welcome change for him; deep down inside he almost has a sense of being home, something that would thrill him if weren’t so distressed. Ron hurries off through the castle corridors and down the familiar route to the Gryffindor common room he’s taken so many times before. The castle is surprisingly empty this evening and he only has to hide once from an errant ghost in a disused classroom before continuing on his way. Mostly on luck, he manages to make it three-quarters of the way to Gryffindor tower before he gets caught.

 

“Mr. Weasley, what are you doing here?” a familiar voice calls from somewhere near the tapestry of Delphinius the Destroyer.

 

Ron stops and wheels around to face the older witch who looks exactly the same as the last time he saw her. He wonders briefly if she ever ages before saying, “Professor McGonagall.”

 

“While it’s nice to see you Mr. Weasley, I can’t help but wonder what you’re doing in this castle. Former students are not allowed anywhere near the dormitories,” she says firmly.

 

“I need to see Hermione. It’s urgent,” Ron says desperately.

 

“Well, as romantic as I’m sure your intentions are, you’ll have to wait. It is past curfew and all students are in their common rooms for the night.”

 

Ron grits his teeth. Leave it to Professor McGonagall to assume that his visit is motivated by teenage hormones and not a terrible crisis.

 

“Professor, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t urgent. It’s Harry. He’s not well and I need Hermione’s help. Please, just let me talk to her,” Ron begs.

 

His former professor’s expression turns from disapproval to immediate worry and Ron knows that she’s going to help. Harry was always one of her favourite students.

 

“Very well,” she says, “Come with me and wait outside the portrait. I’ll fetch Miss Granger for you.”

 

The two of them walk the rest of the way to Gryffindor tower in silence and Ron is thankful that his former professor doesn’t question him. When they stop at the portrait of the fat lady, however, she turns to face Ron with a look of uneasiness etched into her normally stern countenance.

 

“Mr. Weasley, if you need any assistance with Mr. Potter, please let me know,” she says.

 

“Thanks,” Ron says uneasily.

 

She disappears behind the portrait and leaves him waiting outside. Ron fidgets nervously while he waits, hopping on one foot and then the other. It seems to take an eternity but finally he hears voices near the portrait hole and Hermione emerges, followed by Professor McGonagall.

 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she says somewhat awkwardly, “Oh and Miss Granger? If you’re going to be absent by breakfast tomorrow do send me an owl. I’ll need to come up with a convincing excuse as to why you’re not in class.”

 

“Thank-you professor,” Hermione says.

 

As their professor retreats down the hallway, Hermione turns to Ron and says, “What’s happened? McGonagall only told me it was an emergency.”

 

Ron feels his face crumple and, to his embarrassment, he’s suddenly near tears.

 

“I can’t do this alone Hermione. Harry’s not himself and nothing I do seems to help. We-we had th-this massive row over him obliviating a muggle and...I need help. I need you,” he manages to choke out.

 

Hermione puts a hand on shoulder, her faced creased in sympathy and shock at his predicament.

 

“He oblivated a muggle?” she repeats incredulously, “But Harry wouldn’t – “

 

“He did. Look we don’t have time to waste. Are you coming with me or not?” Ron says frantically.

 

“Just let me get my coat,” Hermione says.

 

When she returns they decide that Ron will take her through side-along apparition to the tent since there isn’t a reliable floo connection close by and it’s too far to fly. Together they make the walk out to the edge of the forbidden forest while Ron fills Hermione in on Harry’s depression and his recent behaviour.

 

“Ron, he needs professional treatment. You must have been going insane, cooped up with him all that time. No wonder you cracked,” she says sympathetically.

 

“I told him I wasn’t going to leave him and then I did. Merlin Hermione, I’m such an idiot. He’s going to think I’ve left him for good!” Ron moans.

 

“You have to stop blaming yourself because it isn’t going to do any good. Let’s just get there and we’ll figure out what to do,” Hermione says.

 

Ron silently admits she’s right but that doesn’t stop the litany of recriminations playing through his head until they reach the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione takes Ron’s arm without a word and he apparates them to the tent. When they land the weather is even worse than when he left. The chilly wind is thrashing the newly falling snow into a blizzard that bites at their exposed faces and sneaks under their coats to make them shiver.

 

Ron grabs Hermione’s arm and leads her the few yards through the snow drifts and into the entrance of the tent. The first thing he registers is that it’s nearly as cold in there as it is outside but then Hermione gasps and his attention is drawn to the figure lying on the floor. Harry is curled up in a ball with his head pillowed on his arms.

 

“Harry!” Ron cries.

 

He scoops his boyfriend into his arms and carries him into the living area of the tent with Hermione following close behind. She helpfully transfigures one of the arm chairs into a sofa and Ron lays him down on it.

 

“Is he – “Hermione can’t finish her words.

 

Ron brushes his hand across Harry’s skin, noting that it feels ice cold.

 

“Harry, can you hear me?” he asks frantically.

 

Harry’s eyes flutter open. He looks around drowsily as though he’s not really seeing his surroundings before dropping his head back to the sofa.

 

“Ron, he needs to warm up. Where are your blankets?” Hermione asks.

 

“In the back,” Ron says with a jerk of his thumb in the vague direction of the bedroom.

 

He climbs onto the sofa and pulls Harry into his arms.

 

“Harry, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t leaving you for good, I swear,” he whispers.

 

Hermione returns with all of the blankets they possess and begins draping them over the two men. Then she lights a blazing fire in the stove and sets off to the kitchen, presumably to make some tea. Harry buries his face in Ron’s shoulder, not quite conscious but certainly not asleep either as he seems to revel in their closeness. Ron can’t help but realize that this is the longest Harry’s ever allowed himself to be held while awake; in fact, it’s been days since they’ve kissed or even held hands due to Harry pulling away every time Ron’s tried to be intimate with him.

 

“Ron?” Harry mutters against his neck, “Why did you come back? Why didn’t you just leave me here?”

 

“Because I was worried about you,” Ron says softly.

 

“Where did you go?” Harry whispers.

 

“Hogwarts,” Ron says simply.

 

Before Harry can ask why, Hermione appears while levitating three cups of tea in front of her. She sets down two of them on a kitchen chair serving as a side table and then takes her own to the armchair next to the sofa.

 

“How is he?” she asks.

 

“Awake,” Ron answers.

 

“Why is she here? I told you that you weren’t allowed to tell anyone where we are. You promised me!” Harry says angrily.

 

He climbs off of Ron’s lap and tries to stand but ends up stumbling somewhere near the kitchen where he collapses again.

 

“Harry! Harry, stop!” Ron yelps.

 

Harry crawls across the floor, intent on heading for the front door of the tent but he’s too weak. He lets out a litany of colourful swears, furious at his body’s inability to cooperate. Ron and Hermione are beside him in an instant, trying to gather him from the cold floor and cover him with blankets while Harry simultaneously tries to push both them of away with angry language and balled up fists.

 

“We need to go to a hospital,” Hermione says.

 

“No! Ron, tell her no! Don’t touch me!” Harry shrieks.

 

“Harry, I’m really, really sorry about this,” Hermione says as she takes out her wand.

 

The protests die on Harry’s lips as she stuns him, rendering him unconscious, and then performs a body bind curse to keep him from moving if he wakes up. For a moment, Ron can’t move, can’t think. He just sits there, stroking Harry’s dark hair and feeling devastated that it’s come to this. Hermione grabbing his arm drags him out of his apathy.

 

“Get your things together. We’re going,” she says.

 

Ron doesn’t have to ask where. Instead he packs everything they might need into his rucksack and joins Hermione where she’s keeping watch over Harry.

 

“Do you still have the invisibility cloak? We can use it to hide him so people at the hospital don’t stare,” she says.

 

Ron pulls the cloak out of his bag and hands it to her. She neatly drapes it around Harry and then straightens up.

 

“We’ll have to apparate there. You hold Harry and I’ll take us there,” Hermione instructs.

 

Ron lifts Harry from the cold floor and cradles him in his arms like a small child. Hermione squeezes his arm and with a loud crack the three of them apparate to the entrance of St. Mungo’s.

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Ron sits in a private waiting room at St. Mungo’s psychiatric ward, waiting for word on Harry’s condition. His eyes are red-rimmed from crying and he’s long gone silent while he holds vigil, wondering why it’s taking so long for the Healers to treat Harry. It’s been over an hour since they put him on a gurney and wheeled him away. It’s been only a few minutes since he and Hermione took a break to send owls off to both the school and Ron’s parents, advising them of where they both are. Hermione takes Ron’s hand and squeezes it but it barely registers to him.

 

It was easy to sneak past the reception area with Harry covered by the cloak. The blonde witch at the desk was preoccupied by a man with a large apple stuffed up his nose, who sounded dreadful as he tried to explain his predicament. It was easy to find the ward on the seventh floor, easy to pull off the cloak and release the body bind, easy to find a healer and explain what had happened. What’s not easy is waiting for what’s already been an eternity for a scrap of news.

 

Together Ron and Hermione wait in silence for nearly another twenty minutes. She fidgets uncomfortably and he knows it won’t be long before she vacates her chair and goes searching for something, anything she can learn about Harry. Ron himself sits like a statue, not speaking and barely moving. Finally the door opens and a tall man with dark hair in a crisp lime green healer’s uniform enters the room.

 

“Are you Harry Potter’s friends?” he asks.

 

“Hermione says, “Yes,” but Ron can only manage a tense nod in agreement.

 

“My name is Healer Switch and I’ve been assigned to take charge of his care while he’s here. I wanted to ask you some questions,” he says pleasantly.

 

“Can we see him?” Ron interrupts.

 

“In a few moments; they’re just getting him settled in,” Healer Switch says smoothly.

 

Ron heaves a sigh of relief and some of the burden he’s been feeling lifts. He’s been so terrified since they found Harry in the tent, knowing that he made a grave mistake in leaving that could potentially have cost Harry his life and it’s been eating him inside for hours now.

 

“Harry is currently being treated for hypothermia. You said he was experiencing some symptoms earlier?” Healer Switch questions.

 

“He was almost unconscious and he was so cold when we found him,” Hermione says tearfully, “We tried to warm him up with blankets but he woke up and he was very angry with us. Then he tried to get up and it was like he couldn’t walk; he was crawling across the floor and he was fighting us when we tried to help him.”

 

“Confusion, dizziness, and lack of co-ordination – definitely all symptoms. Do you know how long he was exposed to the cold for?” Healer Switch asks.

 

“We’re not sure,” Hermione says apologetically.

 

Healer Switch nods and then continues on, “Once we’ve got him warmed up he’ll be okay physically but his mental state is what concerns us the most. Harry woke up and, well, indicated that this might have been a deliberate attempt to freeze to death because he was upset about something. We tried questioning him a little further but he isn’t talking much.”

 

Hermione nudges Ron and he realizes that he should tell them everything he’s seen and heard over the last few months.

 

“The war,” he says roughly, “He feels guilty for all of those people dying in the war, like it’s personally his fault. He won’t talk to anyone or see anyone but me and all he does is read by himself. He was crying at Christmas, he barely lets me touch him, and the other day he did something so completely out of character that I could hardly believe it. This isn’t the Harry I know.”

 

“Harry may be depressed and he may also be experiencing survivor’s guilt. He probably doesn’t see himself as a hero like the rest of our world does but as someone who caused all of the pain suffering that happened. If he is suicidal this is very serious. We’ll need to keep a close eye on him,” Healer Switch says.

 

“What’s going to happen to him?” Hermione asks.

 

“He’s been admitted to the ward. He’ll stay here until he’s no longer a danger to himself and then we’ll release him provided he has someone to keep watch over him,” Healer Switch explains.

 

“I will,” Ron volunteers.

 

Hermione shoots him a look of worry but says nothing for the time being because they’re being allowed in to see Harry. Healer Switch leads them to a private room in the middle of the hall and then leaves them there to have a few moments alone with their friend. He’s lying in bed covered with several thick blankets, eyes closed and his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath he takes. Ron sits down in one of the visitor’s chairs and reaches out to stroke Harry’s fine dark hair.

 

Harry opens his eyes and breathes, “Ron.”

 

“Harry,” is all Ron can manage to say because the words catch in his throat and suddenly he can’t speak.

 

“Hi Harry,” Hermione says from somewhere over Ron’s shoulder.

 

“Her-miny,” Harry says thickly.

 

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asks.

 

“What happened? I just remember being so cold,” Harry wonders.

 

“You… you tried to freeze yourself to death,” Hermione supplies helpfully.

 

“Did I?” Harry asks.

 

“Harry, you were unconscious and you were so cold but we couldn’t warm you up. Then you woke up and you were confused and fighting us. Don’t you remember?” Hermione says.

 

Harry shakes his head.

 

“I just remember… you were gone Ron. We had a row and you were gone and I thought you weren’t coming back. I thought I was alone and I couldn’t stand it. I was standing there in the doorway for the longest time and then when I got tired I laid down and I…waited,” he says weakly.

 

Harry lays back and closes his eyes so Ron shifts closer and takes his hand. From out in the hall they can hear voices approaching. Ron can make out the low sounds of Healer Switch, followed by the shrill tone of his mother and his father’s soft interjections.

 

“Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley are in with him now. Since we are restricting Mr. Potter’s visitors to two at a time you’ll have to wait until they’re finished. There’s a private waiting room just down the hall if you’d like to stay there,” they can hear Healer Switch say.

 

Hermione jerks her head towards the door and says, “I’ll go.”

 

Ron simply nods and returns to his vigil at Harry’s bedside.

 

“Ron, I want to go home,” Harry says tiredly.

 

“We’re not going back to that tent,” Ron declares.

 

Harry opens his eyes and fixes Ron with a glare that would do Molly Weasley proud.

 

“Then somewhere else, anywhere but here because I don’t need to be here!” he snaps.

 

“You need to stay here,” Ron says firmly, “because you’re sick.”

 

“I’m not sick! Please Ron, please tell them I don’t need to be here so we can leave together. We can go anywhere you want, just don’t leave me here,” Harry pleads.

 

“No,” Ron says in a weary voice.

 

“I thought you loved me! You wouldn’t do this to me if you did!” Harry cries.

 

“I’m doing this **because** I love you! I’ll always love you and I can’t leave you because some barking mad part of me makes me stay! But I can’t deal with this anymore. You need to be here and you need to get better and there’s nothing you can say to make me change my mind!” Ron says.

 

Harry lies back against the pillows and closes his eyes again.

 

“Go away, just go away,” he says wearily.

 

“Okay, but it’s only temporary. I’ll be back later,” Ron warns.

 

He leaves the room and walks down the hall to the private waiting room where his parents and Hermione are waiting for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Ron enters the private waiting room where his parents and Hermione are sitting together. His mother looks distraught and has a tissue clenched in her fist while his father has one arm around her in a comforting gesture. Hermione is sitting alone with her hands balled into fists in her lap. As soon as Ron enters his parents swoop down on him and hug him like there’s no tomorrow.

 

“Oh Ron, we haven’t seen you in forever,” Molly says tearfully.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ron says in a choked voice.

 

Suddenly he’s tired, so tired, and he can’t find the strength to keep himself together anymore. To his embarrassment he bursts into tears and collapses into his mother’s arms like he did when he was a small child.

 

“It’s okay,” Molly murmurs as she strokes his hair, “We’re here for you and Harry. We’re going to do whatever it takes to make you both better, I promise. All you have to do is tell us what happened.”

 

Ron takes a handful of crumpled tissues from his father and wipes his eyes roughly. Then he sits down in the chair across from them and tells his parents and Hermione everything about Christmas, life in the tent, and Harry’s odd mood swings leading up to the incident where he and Hermione found a nearly frozen Harry and brought him to the hospital. He leaves no stone unturned, even his relationship with Harry, glad to finally relieve himself of it all in front of those willing to shoulder the burden with him.

 

“I can’t say I’m surprised about you two. You’ve been like two peas in a pod since your first year at Hogwarts,” Molly says.

 

“But how…?” Ron asks.

 

“I’m your mother. I know these things,” she says with a tiny smile.

 

Arthur simply shakes his head and says, “I wish you’d told us instead of disappearing like that.”

 

“Harry didn’t want me to tell anyone about any of it and I did what he asked because…because I love him,” Ron falters.

 

“Ron,” Hermione says gently, “Sometimes loving someone means you have to do what’s best for them instead of what they want you to do, particularly if what they’re doing isn’t healthy.”

 

“I know,” Ron whispers.

 

“Your mother and I are going to go in and see Harry. Will you two be all right here by yourselves?” Arthur asks.

 

“We’ll be fine,” Hermione says.

 

The waiting begins again. Ron can barely stand it so he announces that he’s just going to get some water. He’s pretty sure that Hermione knows what’s he’s up to but she doesn’t stop him so he tries to act casual while making his way down to Harry’s room. He pauses a few paces down from the door where no one can see him and listens in. 

 

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to talk to anyone. I-I f-feel responsible for the whole mess that was the war and I just can’t d-deal with it. I wanted to go far away and stay there. I’m s-sorry I took Ron away from you…I’m sorry,” Harry is sobbing.

 

“Oh Harry, it’s not your fault. We all did things we weren’t proud of during the war just to survive. We all lost people and it was horrible and it hurt. But there’s nothing you can do but go on and try to make some sort of a life for yourself. Don’t hide and wither away, let us help you. There are plenty of people who care about you and want to be there if you’d only let us,” Molly says.

 

Harry’s only reply is the sound of muffled sniffles.

 

“When they let you out of here we want you and Ron to stay with us for a while, “Arthur says.

 

“Okay,” Harry agrees meekly.

 

Ron listens to his parents talk to Harry about everything and nothing for a bit before concluding that his boyfriend is in safe hands and wandering back to the waiting room.

 

“Is everything all right?” Hermione asks.

 

“Fine,” Ron says as he sits down.

 

“Listen, I got an owl from Professor McGonagall and she wants to know how long I’ll be away. If you want me to I can stay for a few days but I’ll need to make arrangements for homework,” Hermione tells him.

 

“We’ll be okay now. You can go back to school and keep showing them how brilliant you are,” Ron encourages.

 

“Are you sure? I’m still worried about both of you,” Hermione says nervously.

 

“I’m sure now that we’re out of that bloody tent,” Ron mutters.

 

“Just promise me something?”

 

“Sure,” Ron says easily.

 

“Promise me you won’t go back there,” Hermione begs.

 

“But we’ll have to get our things and pack up the tent eventually,” Ron points out.

 

Hermione grabs his hand and squeezes it earnestly before saying, “Then promise me Harry won’t go back there. Pack everything up yourself and then **leave** , just don’t let Harry go with you or he’ll want to stay there again.”

 

“I promise. Harry will never set foot in Bulgaria again,” Ron says solemnly.

 

“Good. If it’s all right I’m going to say goodbye to your parents and Harry. Then I’m going back to the school. I can probably make it to at least one of my lessons today if I’m quick about it. You look after yourself, okay? Send me an owl and let me know how you both are,” Hermione says.

 

She gives Ron a crushing hug and then disappears down the hall to Harry’s room. He waits in silence, unsure if he should get up and wander around again or not, until his parents return.

 

“If you want to go in again, he’s still awake,” Molly says, patting his shoulder.

 

Ron nods and makes his way to the room again. Harry is sitting up in bed now and he looks extremely bored, which Ron assumes will bring an irritable mood with it so he approaches carefully.

 

“Harry? Is it okay if I come in?” Ron asks tentatively.

 

“Yeah,” Harry says softly.

 

Ron moves to sit down in the chair beside the bed but is surprised when his boyfriend motions him over to sit on the bed. It’s an even bigger surprise when Harry puts his arms around him and hugs him gently.

 

“I thought you were angry with me,” Ron says.

 

“No, not anymore,” Harry admits.

 

“What changed? Last time I was here you were acting like you hated me,” Ron says confusedly.

 

“I’ve never hated you Ron. I just…it’s like I have no control over myself sometimes. I feel so guilty and so angry and just so…awful all the time. I don’t want to be like this anymore because I’m going to lose you,” Harry says.

 

“Don’t push me away again,” Ron whispers and he’s embarrassed to find himself tearing up.

 

“I won’t,” Harry promises, “Healer Switch says I need to stay here for two days and promise not to hurt myself. Then they’ll let me go home and I’ll have to see one of them once a week for counselling. I might have to take some potions for a bit as well. If I do all that you’ll stay, right? You said earlier…”

 

His voice his trails off, pitifully small in the silence of the room and Ron instantly reassures him.

 

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. You just need to take care of yourself, all right? If you do the best you can at that I have a feeling we’ll be all right. I’ll be here, even if things get bad again, just don’t go wandering off to the middle of nowhere. I’m not going to live in that blasted tent again!”

 

“Do you think we can start over?” Harry inquires.

 

“Yeah, we can,” Ron says.

 

Harry kisses him again and he feels himself relax into the embrace. He knows that what lies ahead won’t be easy, that both he and Harry are in for some difficult times until Harry begins to feel more like himself again, but he’s prepared to stick it out. Harry is his and he’s going to grab on with both hands and never let go.

 


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

Ron wakes to sunlight streaming in through the window and briefly wonders why the tent suddenly has a hole in it. Then his mental faculties catch up and he remembers that he’s at the Burrow. Beside him, Harry is still dead to the world and Ron tries not to move lest he wake his partner. Instead he studies Harry’s face, noticing that he looks a lot more peaceful these days, even in his sleep.

 

The healers kept him at St. Mungo’s for two days and made him sign a magically binding contract promising not to hurt himself before releasing him into Ron’s care. At Molly and Arthur’s urging they returned to the Burrow and moved into his old bedroom. Harry sees a healer once a week for counselling sessions and is currently on a myriad of potions designed to elevate his mood and keep the creeping depression at bay. Ron smiles as he eyes his boyfriend happily. Harry has been doing rather well lately and everyone is pleased, none more so than him.

 

“You know it’s rude to stare,” Harry mumbles sleepily.

 

“I’m just looking. You can’t blame me for feasting my eyes on such a beautiful sight,” Ron teases.

 

Harry snorts and finally opens his eyes fully to face him.

 

“You’re barking,” he says.

 

“Am not,” Ron argues.

 

A smile lights up Harry’s face and Ron’s grin only increases. This is the first real smile he’s seen since he found Harry in the tent all those months ago and it warms his heart.

 

“Something’s up, isn’t it?” Harry questions, “It’s way too early for you to be this happy so spill.”

 

“I’m just happy,” Ron says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. When Harry gives him a pointed look, he elaborates, “I’m happy because you’re smiling. When you’re happy that makes me really happy.”

 

Harry whacks him with a pillow and says, “Don’t get soppy on me, you.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with being soppy. You know I love you more than anything in the world, sweetums,” Ron jokes.

 

“ **Never** call me that again!” Harry says in mock irritation but the effect is dampened by his laughter.

 

“Honey, sweetie, sugar, muffin…” Ron says.

 

“Lover,” Harry breathes.

 

“Only in private,” Ron murmurs.

 

He wraps an arm around Harry and drags him into a wonderful kiss, not caring that they both have morning breath.

 

When they break apart, Harry says, “I love you.”

 

“Love you too,” Ron says softly.

 

“Ron, I just wanted to say…well… thank-you for taking care of me all this time. I know I haven’t been easy to live with and I know you’ve spent a huge amount of time worrying about me. I’m really sorry about that and I’m glad you were there. Without you I’d probably have gone off into the woods somewhere and cast Avada Kedavra on myself. I-I love you so much and I want to make this work as long as you’ll have me,” Harry stammers.

 

Ron takes Harry’s hand and brings it up to his mouth. He brushes his lips against his partner’s knuckles before saying, “Of course I’ll have you. Just don’t bottle things up again. If you’re feeling sad or depressed or guilty, talk to me. I promise I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

 

Harry smiles and Ron can see the relief in his eyes.

 

“I promise,” Harry says.

 

“Good. Now get up and get dressed you lazy sod. We have to eat and get changed because you have your appointment this morning,” Ron urges.

 

“Ugh. Can’t I stay here where it’s warm?” Harry moans.

 

“Nope, now get going,” Ron says, giving Harry a nudge with his elbow.

 

Harry gets up and the two of them get ready to face the world together.


End file.
